Page 86 of Ink & Desire

“Thanks for breakfast, Corbin,” I say, standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He stands with me but doesn’t say anything as I turn to leave. He doesn’t reach for me or try to kiss me goodbye. I know it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but I can’t seem to help it. After last night and this morning, I’d almost begun to think we were moving toward something more. But after the last five minutes, I know I was wrong. I try to tell myself it’s fine. It’s what I should have expected. It’s exactly what he told me to expect when we started this thing. He told me that it was just sex. He told me that it would never be anything more than that. And I agreed to his terms. So, why do I feel like crying now?

Because of last night. Because he asked me to stay. He changed the rules without telling me. I let myself start to hope; start to wonder what a relationship with him might look like. I let myself want it. And it lasted less than 12 hours before he showed me his true feelings. I’m such a fucking idiot.

I maintain my composure as I walk away from the outdoor seating area and back toward Corbin’s building where my car is parked. I pick up my speed as I round the corner where I’m no longer visible to Corbin; not that I think he’s watching me go. Why would he? He’s made it clear where we stand. I just need to make it back tomy car. I will not cry right here on the sidewalk in the middle of Boston. But I especially am not going to cry when there’s the slightest chance that Corbin could see me do it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt me enough for tears.

“Avery! Wait!”

Corbin’s shout from behind me makes my heart stutter in my chest and my steps falter, but I keep walking. Surprise wars with a sliver of dangerous hope that I try to tamp down. I can see my car now. It’s not much further. I swallow the hard lump in my throat as I close the last few yards. Part of me wants to know why he came after me. Part of me hopes for things I’m afraid to imagine, even in my own head. I can hear footsteps behind me, but I can’t tell how close they are. It’s not until he calls my name again that I realize he’s much closer than I expected.

“Damn it, Avery,” he calls. “Wait!”

I pull in a fortifying breath and school my features to something that I hope resembles indifference as I turn to face him. He’s only a few yards behind me and quickly closing the gap between us. He’s out of breath as if he ran to catch up to me and his face is flushed. But it’s his eyes that hold my gaze. They’re wild with something like confusion and fear and they’re locked on me as if I can somehow fix whatever’s wrong. I feel my heart melt just the tiniest fraction and those tears that had threatened before taunt me again before I can shake off the emotion. I don’t know when I became this woman,but what happened to the one who wasn’t afraid to tell Corbin off for his shitty behavior? That’s the woman I need to be right now.

“Wait,” he says again. “Don’t leave.”

The anger I should have felt far sooner rises up, and I narrow my eyes at him. He’s not asking me to stay. He’s telling me not to go. It’s not a question, but a command. As if he has any right to order me to do anything. I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, my back to my car.

“Why?” I ask. “So you can be an asshole some more? No thank you.”

I see the flash of annoyance in his eyes before he tamps it down and gives me a look that might be considered apologetic if it were anyone but Corbin. I wait for him to speak; to explain; to do or say anything to justify the way he lashed out at me. When he hesitates, I roll my eyes and reach for the door handle.

“Typical,” I say. “I’ll see you at work.”

“No, wait,” he says, reaching for my arm. “I’m sorry.”

I try not to let those two words from him get to me, but it’s the first time he’s ever apologized to me for anything. It’s hard not to be affected.

“Please, Avery,” he says, his voice softer than before. “Stay?”

Shit.

I know I’m going to cave even before I make the decision to turn around. When I turn and look up at him, I’m shocked by what I see. He looks so lost thatI almost don’t recognize him. Once again, I can feel my heart melt just a little more.

“Why?” I ask.

He looks surprised by the question as if he’d expected me to stay just because he asked.

“I don’t want you to go,” he says.

“Why?” I ask again, exasperated. “Do you even know?”

“Because I like being around you!” he shouts. “I like myself better when you’re around. And I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to figure out what it means. I just want to see where it goes. Is that so wrong?”

“Corbin, what the fuck?” I shake my head, a humorless laugh escaping me. “You told me this was just sex. Remember?Youtold me not to get attached.Youtold me we weren’t having a relationship. You spelled it out very clearly. There was no confusion.”

“I know,” he says, carefully.

“But then you ask me to stay at your place,” I say. “You ask me to come to breakfast. You flirt with me. You kiss me at the table like you can’t help yourself. And none of that was about sex!”

I realize I’m shouting, but I don’t care. I’m not worried about people seeing us arguing in the parking lot. I don’t care what they think.

Corbin surprises me by not matching my anger. “I know,” he says quietly.

I jab a finger into his chest. “That wasyou. Not me. You’re the one who changed the rules and made me thinkit was more than that. But the second I ask you a question that you don’t want to answer, you turn all that off and go back to being Mister None-Of-Your-Business. Fine. If that’s what you want, you can have it. But you can’t have it both ways. You can’t keep pushing me away, then pulling me back in when it’s convenient for you. I deserve more than that.”

“You’re right,” he says in that same quiet tone. “You deserve better.”

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